


always free for you

by un-ah (NeverConformEver)



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Blindfolds, Choking, Double Penetration, Drunk Sex, Face Slapping, Jealousy, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Overstimulation, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Sad Ending, Self-Destructive Behavior, Sex Toys, Smut, Straight!Minho, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Toxic Relationships, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unrequited Love, insufficient aftercare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28674039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverConformEver/pseuds/un-ah
Summary: Because I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you, and it hurts so much.He can’t. He can’t say it.“Thomas? Baby, please, talk to me. I want to understand. Are you okay? What’s wrong?”And that’s when Thomas fucks up.Gally is in love with Thomas. Thomas is in love with Minho. Minho is straight.Or, what happens when you have a group of stupid boys that don’t know how to do anything but hurt each other.
Relationships: Gally/Thomas (Maze Runner), Minho/Thomas (Maze Runner)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	always free for you

**Author's Note:**

> yall dont understand how much fun i had writing this fic and how excited i am to share this painful story about awful people with you

_ hey, u free on sat? _

Gally stares at the text on his phone.

The honest answer is not really.

The correct answer is no, never.

The answer he sends is  _ sure whatever dipshit. _

He cancels his plans, checks his pantry, and asks himself why he does this to himself every fucking time.

* * *

Thomas is on his back this time, which means he’s wearing a blindfold. He doesn’t wanna see Gally’s ugly mug when they do this, apparently. Funny how he doesn’t like Gally’s face, but is just fine with his dick.

Gally pulls off his shirt and tosses it to the side. He takes a moment to observe the boy squirming on his bed as he deals with his belt.

Thomas’s wrists are tied together and attached to the bedframe above his head. He’s already bitten his lips red, and he lets out a low groan, hips gyrating in the air.

“How many times?” Gally asks.

“T-two. Sir,” Thomas pants. Gally tsks and backhands him. Thomas gasps, a sharp inhale of pain. One. Gally slaps his other cheek before he has time to recover, hard enough to whip his head to the side. Two.

There’s a low hum going on in the background. There are two vibrators. One up Thomas’s ass, and the other attached to the tip of his dick. Thomas’s stomach is already stained with cum, the bedsheets under his body soaked in sweat.

“You know you’re not supposed to come unless I say so, don’t you?”

Thomas whimpers and nods. Gally thumbs the remote that he pulled out of his pocket, and clicks it a notch higher. Thomas throws his head back, arching his entire body. His blindfold is wet with tears.

“What was that?”

“Yes, sir!”

Gally drops his pants and steps out of them. He keeps his socks on, because a petty part of him wants to pretend that this is a socks-on-fucking kind of thing.

“That’s right. You know you’re not supposed to come unless I say so, and yet you did. Twice. You think you’ve been punished enough? Are you  _ sorry _ enough?”

Thomas’s dick is red, oversensitive. It looks like he’s in legitimate pain. Gally does not turn off either vibrator.

“Yes, sir! Please!” Thomas tugs against his restraints, chest heaving and stomach clenching.

“I don’t think you are. I think you’re a dirty slut who never learns his fucking lesson. Maybe I should just leave. Who wants to touch a useless whore like you?”

Thomas sobs, breath hitching. “I can’t, I can’t. Please, I can’t.”

Gally climbs onto the bed, hovering over Thomas. Close enough to feel his body heat, but not yet touching.

“Color?”

Thomas thrashes his head from side to side. Gally grabs his jaw, squeezing his cheeks until he stops struggling.

“Color, Thomas.”

There’s a moment where Gally thinks Thomas is legitimately too out of it to realize what’s going on. He’s just about ready to call it off, when Thomas speaks.

“Green,” he gasps.

It’s always green. It probably always will be, because Thomas is an idiot who doesn’t know how to back down. That’s why, in reality it’s not up to Thomas. It’s up to Gally to make the decisions, to make sure Thomas doesn’t break. Because Gally knows Thomas’s limits better than Thomas does, and if it were up to Thomas he’d probably wind up in the hospital half-dead. But Gally asks, every time, anyway.

He observes Thomas for a moment before making his decision.

Thomas can take it.

“That would be the worst punishment for you, wouldn’t it? Cock-hungry fucktoys like you can’t stand being empty. Guess that means you’re less than worthless.”

Thomas whimpers again. His mouth is open, lips parted, long neck glistening, the muscles in his arms straining.

“Oh god,” he whines, “please sir, please.”

“Please what?”

“Your cock,” Thomas cries. “Your cock, please, please, your cock your cock your cock your—”

Gally rips the vibrator out of Thomas’s ass and slams in. He’d made sure to lube Thomas up sufficiently when he stuck the plug in, and the plug wasn’t small either, but it’s still a tight fit. Not enough to tear, but enough to be painful. Just the way Thomas prefers. Gally grits his teeth as Thomas lets out a scream, and begins fucking him in earnest.

Thomas is unintelligible now, drool and snot dripping down his face, groaning and gasping and struggling with his entire body.

Gally trails his hands along Thomas’s thighs. Closes his eyes at the velvet feel of his skin. What if he could just do that? What if he could just...touch him? Hold him?

He wraps his hands under Thomas’s knees and digs his nails in hard enough to bruise. Thomas is folded in half, pinned down so he can barely move.

Gally turns his head to the side, mouthing gently at the inside of Thomas’s leg. Imagines what it would be like to leave a small kiss there, to soothe the tense muscles.

He bites down instead, hard enough to taste blood.

“Please, please please please please—”

Gally pistons his hips in and out, chases after release.

“Come for me, slut.”

Thomas cries out, cock jerking as a pathetic line of cum dribbles out the tip.

“Minho!” he screams, voice anguished.

Gally pushes in one last time, pressing his hips into Thomas’s ass in a filthy grind, and grunts as he comes.

He clicks the vibrator off and leans back, gently releasing Thomas’s legs and pulling out. Thomas’s hole is red, puffy. Cum and lube slip out and Gally watches, rapt, as Thomas’s hole continues to twitch. Then he unties Thomas’s arms and pulls off the blindfold. Thomas’s eyes are closed, mouth slack. He’s passed out. As usual.

Gally takes a moment to collect himself before sitting up with a sigh, leaning his elbows on his knees as he stares down at the floor between his feet.

His socks itch.

* * *

“Hey. Hey, wake up.”

Thomas groans, eyes still closed. Gally takes the wet towel, still warm from the hot water, and gently wipes the cum off of Thomas’s stomach. He’s already wiped his cum off from between Thomas’s cheeks and the sweat from his face and the rest of his body. He should also change the sheets, but he knows that there’s no way he’ll be able to get Thomas off the bed without also pissing him off.

He taps the cool water bottle against Thomas’s cheek, and Thomas’s eyebrows scrunch as he wrinkles his nose and turns away.

“Thomas,” Gally says in a warning tone. Sighing, he places the water bottle on the bedside table and helps Thomas sit up, scooching him until he’s between Gally’s legs and leaning back against Gally’s chest. Gally unscrews the bottle cap and holds it up to Thomas’s lips.

“Just a sip. C’mon.”

Thomas sighs, and Gally takes the opportunity to tip some water into his mouth. Thomas coughs.

“Easy now.”

Once he’s gotten Thomas to hydrate a bit, Gally exhales in relief. He gently lays Thomas back onto the pillow. Thomas’s eyes flutter closed, though there is still tension in his brow.

He isn’t really asleep. At least, not anymore. He never is—but the sex does tire him out a lot. (That’s the point.)

After Gally tucks Thomas in, he lies down beside him, a couple feet away. Close, but not close enough. He turns so their backs are to each other, and evens out his breath as though he were asleep.

He knows the routine. It goes like this every time.

They have rough, tiring sex. After Thomas is sufficiently wrung out, Gally takes minimal care of him (because Thomas is an uncooperative ass). Then they go to “sleep”. Gally listens as Thomas tries to quiet the crying and the shivering. Gally does not turn around and tuck him into his chest. Gally does not tell Thomas that everything’s all right, that he’s got him. Gally does not soothe any of the aches and pains that he’s delivered, because Gally knows he can’t soothe the ache that hurts the most. Gally does nothing.

Eventually, Thomas’s sniffles will quiet down, having cried himself asleep. Gally will try to stay awake, but being exhausted himself, he’ll eventually succumb to slumber.

When he wakes up, Thomas will be gone.

Within a couple of weeks, Thomas will text again, asking if he’s free. Whether or not he is, Gally will accept. And it’ll start again.

* * *

_ not gonna ask me how it went? _

Thomas’s stomach flutters when he sees who the text is from, then twists when he sees what the text says.

_ no, _ he types, then deletes.  _ sorry, was busy, _ he tries, then deletes again. Is he acting suspicious? He can’t tell. And he can’t let Minho know. He’s gotta play it cool. He can do that, right?

_ sure, fine. hey minho how did the mad hot sex with the big tiddy classmate go? did you shoot your man muscle? probe the cave with ur one-eyed wonder weasel? _

Yeah, like that, maybe? He hits send because he hates himself.

_ lol where do u come up with this shit man _ _  
_ _ and all i did was ask her out! _

_ yeah right manwhore,  _ Thomas shoots back.

_ im srs. she seems nice _

_ nice enough to want a piece of that pulsating python of love? _

_ thomas. _

_ ok ok fine. so she said yes, _ Thomas texts back, because of course she said yes. Who would say no to Minho?

_ yeah, im seeing her on fri! _

Minho uses exclamation points relatively often, but Thomas wishes he hadn’t in this case.

_ nervous?  _ Thomas asks, though he doesn’t really want to know.

_ im never nervous _

_ except when u r _

_ ok maybe a little _

Thomas gets up and runs one hand down his face and the other through his hair as he paces. He can do this. It’s fine. Minho’s his best friend. His straight best friend. His straight best friend whom he’s in love with. But he can be supportive, because that’s what Minho needs from him. He can be happy for him, or at least pretend to be, because that’s what it will take to keep Minho in his life. Thomas won’t wreck this. Not like he’s wrecked everything else.

He can’t.

_ ull be fine. she wouldnt have said yes if she wasnt interested, so at least u know its mutual _

_ but what if she felt pressured to say yes? _

_ did u pressure her _

_ ofc not _

_ there’s ur answer _ _  
_ _ srsly, its fine minho. it’s not like uve never done this before _

_ but she’s really pretty. and smart, and funny. _

_ ha, like me _

_ lol _ _  
_ _ yea maybe i can just imagine it’s u _

The worst part is, Thomas knows he isn’t doing it on purpose. Thomas is just that pathetic. It takes him three tries to type out the next text with shaky fingers.

_ knew u had a thing for me bb ;) _

_ haha. _ _  
_ _ i rly like this girl tho man _

This isn’t the first time Minho has said that. It might not be the last. But it could be. This could be the one. And if it is, Thomas would have to let go. He’s not ready to, but he doesn’t have a choice.

_ then go charm her socks off _

_ thnx. i will _

_ and maybe afterwards you can help her with some quantum jizzix _

_ lol fuck off _

Thomas locks his phone and tosses it onto the couch. Then he buries his head into his knees and fists his hands in his hair wishing he could, for once in his life, not give a damn.

* * *

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

“Fuck me,” Thomas breathes, fisting Gally’s shirt.

The music is loud enough to ring in Gally’s head. It takes a second for his brain to catch up to his ears, and another for his mouth to catch up to his brain. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Gally’s hands have made it to Thomas’s hips without him noticing. Thomas is breathing heavily against him, straining to get closer. It’s distracting.

Gally’s eyes wander around the room, and amongst the crowd he picks out Minho, dancing with some random girl. They’re all over each other, hands roaming above clothes.

Ah. So that’s what this is about.

“You’re drunk,” Gally says, “and jealous.”

Thomas shoves him, but then loses balance himself and tumbles right back into Gally’s chest. Gally’s hands land on his ass. Thomas kisses his neck, trailing the tip of his nose up behind Gally’s jaw and to his ear.

“So are you,” Thomas says in a low voice. “I saw you watching me earlier.”

Thomas slots their legs together and grinds himself down against Gally’s thigh. His head drops forward, forehead pressed against Gally’s shoulder. Without thinking, Gally reacts, shifting to give Thomas a better angle, kneading his ass.

Gally struggles to think around the alcohol and the writhing mass of Thomas in his arms. He’s already getting hard. Why shouldn’t they do this again? Thomas is attractive. Everyone knows that. Gally knows that. What’s wrong with a quick shag? Why is he fighting?

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” Thomas says, twisting his fingers in the short hair at the base of Gally’s neck. He tugs Gally towards the door, and they stumble together.

But even as horny and drunk as he is, there’s something wrong that Gally can’t quite place his finger on.

“Why me?” Gally asks. The words are out of his mouth before he even processes the thought. “You hate me.”

Thomas gives him a droll look. “Isn’t it obvious? Because there’s no chance we’ll fall for each other.”

* * *

Thomas’s hair is one of his most obvious weak spots. Gally tugs hard, and he’s putty, melting into the sheets. The dildo in his ass isn’t small, but it certainly isn’t big enough for what Gally has in mind, either, so Gally dribbles lube over the base and rubs his pinky finger in it before wiggling it in beside the dildo.

He’s angry.

That’s fine. Thomas likes him angry, anyways.

It takes another five minutes to get another finger in. Thomas shakes, trying to hold himself up to relieve the grip Gally has in his hair, but elbows too weak to hold him up.

Gally takes his time because he enjoys this part, Thomas struggling weakly on his hands and knees, taking deep breaths to relieve the pain as Gally slowly stretches his hole until he can fit another three fingers in next to the dildo. He slaps the end of the dildo for good measure, jolting Thomas forward and jostling the toy. Then he hooks two fingers inside and  _ pulls, _ forcing the muscle to give and widen even more.

“You ready, baby?”

“Nng, don’t call me that,” Thomas pants.

Gally takes that as a yes and nudges his cock against Thomas’s hole. He doesn’t think it’ll work at first, but slowly he’s able to get in just a bit of the tip. The hiss of pain and whorish moan Thomas lets out is enough for him to know he can keep going so he presses forward, letting go of Thomas’s hair to press his shoulder blades down into the bed, presenting his ass for a good wrecking.

It’s hot. Thomas looks beautiful like this, scratch marks down his back, hole stuffed, under Gally. It just makes Gally even more angry.

When Gally bottoms out Thomas whines, hands gripping the sheets and teeth biting into the corner of a pillow. Gally nudges Thomas’s knees a bit wider and slides just a bit more in.

Then he moves.

He keeps one hand on Thomas’s upper back and the other gripping the dildo, alternating between pulling out the toy and fucking in with his dick, then pulling out and thrusting in with the toy. He angles himself so that every thrust hits Thomas’s prostate, and is rewarded with Thomas’s tears of pained ecstasy. Thomas is loud, voice cracking on a high keen when Gally pushes in with both at the same time and spanks his right ass cheek.

Gally wonders what Thomas’s face looks like right now. He can see the blush along his neck and ears, knows his mouth is open and brow tight, but only his imagination can service him with what Thomas’s eyes would look like glistening with tears, rimmed by dark, clumped eyelashes.

Fuck this.

He pulls the dildo out and flips Thomas onto his back. Thomas is looser now, but his insides are still hot around Gally’s cock, and it feels as good as it always has.

“Wha—”

Gally doesn’t give Thomas the chance to figure out what’s going on before he’s wrapping his hands around Thomas’s neck. Thomas’s eyes flutter and he whines, wrapping his legs around Gally’s hips. Gally keeps his hands there and keeps moving his hips, watching as Thomas’s face turns redder and redder.

“Look at me,” he hisses when Thomas’s eyes roll up into his head. “Look at me, motherfucker.”

He’s seething now, shaking.

This is bad. If he isn’t careful, he might actually go too far this time.

Thomas wraps his hands around Gally’s wrists, looks up at him with wide, watery eyes, then comes with a choked-off mewl.

Gally lets go with a gasp and his hips stutter before he shoots his load.

He collapses to the side, breathing hard.

Shit.

He doesn’t have to wait long. Thomas coughs a couple times and fumbles for the water by the bed. It takes maybe a few moments longer for the situation to hit.

“What...the  _ fuck _ was that?”

Gally doesn’t move, keeping his face covered. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

Thomas grabs his arm and shoves it aside, climbing on top of him and pinning his arms above his head.

“Hot,” Gally snarks.

“Shut up,” Thomas says. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“Can’t have me shut up and answer your questions, you know. Gotta pick one or the other.”

“You fucking asshole.”

Gally shakes free of Thomas’s grip with ease and sits up, knocking Thomas back. They’ve flipped now, with Thomas on his back again and Gally between his legs.

“Oh?  _ I’m _ the asshole?”

Thomas snorts. “Haven’t you always been?”

“Yeah,” Gally says with a sneer. “Yeah, that’s why you come to me, isn’t it? Because I’m a fucking asshole?”

Thomas glares at him. “What do you want me to say? Sorry? You knew what this was from the beginning!”

“Did I?”

Thomas rolls them over and hisses into Gally’s face. “Yes. You did. Don’t pretend you didn’t.”

“I’ve never done anything you didn’t like.  _ You _ came to  _ me.  _ If you didn’t like being choked, you should’ve said so last time. Or the time before. Or the time before. You  _ love _ it, don’t lie.”

“I get it Gally, you’re fucking stupid. But we both know it wasn’t the choking.”

Gally knows.

No looking at each other’s faces when they come. That was the rule.

“Maybe I forgot.”

Thomas punches him, knuckles glancing across Gally’s cheekbone.

Gally rolls them over one more time, pinning Thomas down with an arm pressed over his collarbone.

“You’re gonna regret that.”

“You deserved it,” Thomas says defiantly.

Something in Gally snaps.

“You fucking  _ used _ me!” he screams.

Thomas tries to hold his gaze, but eventually looks away. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

Gally laughs in disbelief. “And I’m the stupid one, huh? Well at least I don’t have sex with people just to hurt myself!”

Thomas turns red. “Why the fuck do you even care?”

“I don’t,” Gally lies.

“Then get off me.”

“Why? So you can go cry to your bestie about how mean old Gally hurt you? Boo-hoo. Gonna make him kiss it better? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Too bad that’s  _ never _ gonna happen!”

Thomas pushes at Gally, struggling for real now. Gally grunts and grabs his arms, laying over him and pressing down with his full body weight.

“Admit it,” Gally says. “You’re just pissed because you actually fucked me instead of  _ Minho _ this time.”

“That’s what—we fucking—agreed to!”

“No it’s not!” Gally yells. “We agreed to kinky sex between two mature, self-responsible adults. I didn’t agree to be your fucking tool!”

“Well if you don’t like it then fuck off!”

Gally lets go and sits up. Thomas scrambles off the bed.

“Maybe I will,” Gally threatens.

“Good riddance,” Thomas says, grabbing his clothes. “I can get what I want from someone else.”

Gally is up in an instant, knocking Thomas into the wall and pinning his arm in a painful twist behind his back.

Thomas bangs his other fist against the wall and tries to push away from it.

“What color, Thomas?” Gally says, his voice cool.

“Fuck off!”

“I said. What. Color. Thomas.”

Thomas’s breath comes faster now. After a minute or so of more struggle he lets his head fall forward against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and teeth gritted against the pain.

“G-Green,” he says.

Gally lets go and steps back. Thomas turns around, confusion clear on his face.

“You idiot. You  _ complete, _ fucking imbecile.” Gally pokes his finger into Thomas’s chest. “You’ll find someone else? What, just walk into some random bar and look for some big, mean-looking man and let him have his way with you?”

Thomas seems taken aback by the vehemence in Gally’s voice.

“I could’ve dislocated your shoulder,” Gally says. “And you wouldn’t have raised a finger to stop it.”

Thomas looks away. “I can take care of myself.”

“Can you really? Maybe you can. But you won’t.”

Thomas rubs his shoulder and glares back up at Gally. He pushes past him and grabs his pants, jerking them on.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s my life, and I can do what I want. I don’t need you, Gally.”

Despite himself, Gally feels a pang in his chest.

“You won’t last a month without me.”

Thomas knocks into Gally’s shoulder on his way out, shirt and hoodie in hand and pants not even fully zipped.

“Watch me.”

* * *

Thomas clears his throat uncomfortably, trying to force the hoarse note out of his voice. “You look fine,” he says, scrolling through his phone.

_ Fine as hell, _ he sighs to himself.

“You’re not even looking,” Minho pouts.

Thomas glances up and rolls his eyes. “Like I said, you look  _ fine, _ Minho.”

It’s a bit hot in Minho’s apartment. Thomas scratches at his neck, tugging a bit at the collar of his jacket.

“I look like a douche,” Minho complains.

“That’s what makes you sexy,” Thomas says.

Minho groans. “But I don’t want her to think I’m a douche! She’s not that kind of girl.”

“Simple. Then don’t be a douche.”

Thomas rolls his head and shoulders, feeling an ache setting in where Gally had twisted his arm. His ass still hurts, a pain that constantly reminds him of what had happened a couple days ago.

“Aren’t you supposed to be better at this?” Minho asks.

“At what? Giving advice about clothes?”

“Yes.”

Thomas is unamused. “Because gay best friends are supposed to be fashion experts, right?” he says sarcastically.

“Oh, come off it. Help me out here. You always look good!”

Thomas doesn’t know how much longer he can take this.

“Well...” Minho continues. “Except today. Why are you wearing that jacket? It’s not your usual style, is it?”

“If you can tell that much then you can pick out your own date outfit just fine.”

“C’mon Thomas. Please?”

Thomas wants to bang his head on a wall. He puts his phone down, finally, and gives Minho a careful once-over.

He does look good. Minho always looks good. Thomas isn’t even sure why he agreed to come. He should have known better. He runs his hand through his hair and down his neck in frustration.

“Like I said, Minho. You look  _ fine. _ The shirt shows off your arms and honestly that’s all you ever really need.”

He picks his phone back up and unlocks it, going back to scrolling aimlessly through Reddit.

It takes some more time to realize that something’s wrong. Thomas looks up in confusion when Minho doesn’t respond to see Minho kneel in front of him and reaching for his jacket zipper.

Thomas jerks back in panic. “What?”

Minho stops. He looks serious, and concerned. His hand is resting on Thomas’s thigh, the other hovering near Thomas’s neck. An image of Minho cupping Thomas’s cheek and leaning forward to kiss him flashes in front of Thomas’s eyes and he turns red, brushing Minho’s hands away and scratching his neck anxiously.

“Minho? Is something wrong?”

“Thomas...” Minho’s voice shakes. “Who hurt you?”

...Shit.

Thomas tucks his chin down and hunches his shoulders, covering the bruises that lace his neck.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing!” Minho says and gently uses his finger to tip up Thomas’s chin to get a better look. Thomas gulps, squeezing his eyes closed as his heart races.

“Don’t you have a date to get ready for?”

“Don’t change the subject. This looks serious, Thomas. What the fuck? Did someone try to kill you or something?”

You’re  _ killing me right now, _ Thomas thinks.

Minho’s fingers are warm as they tug Thomas’s collar down. He unzips Thomas’s jacket down to the chest and spreads the flaps to the sides to reveal more of the purple and yellow finger shapes. Thomas can feel the heat of his skin through the layers of his clothes.

“Jesus,” Minho breathes, eyes wide.

“Minho,” Thomas says, mouth dry. “Shouldn’t—shouldn’t you get going soon? You have to meet her in fifteen minutes, right?”

“Shut up.”

Thomas shuts up.

Minho grabs Thomas’s face between his hands and jerks him down so that they’re looking eye-to-eye. Thomas is stiff as a board, begging himself to look anywhere other than Minho’s face. His eyes, his lips, his perfect hair.

“Thomas, baby... Tell me who did this.”

Thomas bites his lip. He both hates and loves it when Minho calls him that. It started out as a joke, but then became Minho’s nickname for him, next to a plethora of playful insults. It’s one of the things he dreads about Minho getting a steady girlfriend—wondering if he’ll start calling someone else “baby”.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Minho’s grip tightens. “What the fuck does that mean? You’re my best friend. Of course it matters!”

Thomas pries Minho’s hands away. “You’re gonna miss your date,” he says miserably.

Minho switches their grip so that he’s holding both of Thomas’s hands.

“I don’t care.”

Thomas’s heart soars.

_ Stop it, _ he tells himself.  _ Stop it, that’s not what he means. _

“Thomas,  _ please. _ Tell me who did this to you. I don’t care about some random chick from class, okay? You’re more important. You’ll always be more important.”

It isn’t until Minho is shuffling closer and saying his name again in that soft, concerned voice of his that Thomas realizes he’s crying. He wipes his tears away and zips his jacket back up, leaning back to get as much distance between him and Minho as possible.

“You don’t understand,” he begins. “I—I wanted it. I asked for it.”

_ I liked it. _

Minho tries to catch his eyes, confusion clear in his features.

“Why? Why would you do that to yourself?”

Thomas closes his eyes.

_ Because I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you, and it hurts so much. _

He can’t. He can’t say it.

“Thomas? Baby, please, talk to me. I want to understand. Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

And that’s when Thomas fucks up.

* * *

Gally almost doesn’t hear the pounding on his door over the music blasting in his ears. But when he does, he pulls off his headphones with a grumble and reaches for the dresser, annoyed.

The pounding continues as he pulls on some pants.

“I’m coming! Calm your tits dude.”

When he opens the door he gets a fist straight to the face and the sound of his nose crushing.

“What the fuck?!”

“Minho, stop! Stop it.”

Wait. He knows that voice.

He looks up to see Thomas holding back an irate Minho, who looks ready to murder him.

He supposes he should have seen this coming.

“Cat’s out of the bag, huh?” he says, voice nasally. Fuck, that hurt.

“Yeah, the fucking cat is out of the fucking bag,  _ Gally. _ And it better run before I do worse,” Minho growls.

“All right, whatever. Come in, since you asked so nicely.”

Gally turns and heads towards the kitchen, intent on grabbing an ice pack and some paper towels. Jesus, Minho can really throw a punch. He’s still blinking away stars.

As he deals with that, he hears heated whispers coming from behind him as Thomas tries his best to calm Minho down.

“Just sit down, Thomas. I’ll handle this.”

“No! You don’t get it! I told you, you’re overreacting.”

“I’m  _ overreacting?  _ He hurt you!”

“Because I asked him to!”

“Well he went too far!”

“That’s not your decision to make!”

“Thomas, I’m not stupid. You haven’t been happy. You talk less, cancel on plans more often with nothing but shitty excuses. Do you know when the last time I heard you laugh was?  _ Three months ago, _ Thomas. This isn’t okay. And it’s because of that sorry piece of shit that’s  _ hurting  _ you.”

What Gally wouldn’t give to see Thomas’s face right at that moment.

“He’s not—okay, fine. He... hurts me. But it’s... It’s nothing I don’t ask for.”

“Jesus, Thomas. You need to stop thinking that way. No matter what happened, you didn’t  _ ask _ to be hurt.”

“He isn’t abusing me! Can we just go? Please?”

“He’s right, you know,” Gally interrupts, wiping the blood off his face and tilting his head back a little to hold the ice pack against his nose. He wonders if this will heal crooked. Wouldn’t be the first time. “I haven’t done anything he didn’t want. Nothing he didn’t  _ like,”  _ Gally says.

“Once I’m done with you myself I’m calling the fucking cops.”

“Minho!” Thomas says. “No. No, you’re not. We’re leaving, now.”

Gally drops his head to sneer at them.

“And what will you tell them?”

“That you’ve been abusing my best friend.”

“Oh, really?” Gally fixes Thomas with a stare. “What do you think, Thomas? Is that true?”

Thomas falls silent. Gally walks forward, his steps slow and leisurely. “I asked you a question.”

Minho shoves him back. “You don’t go near him.”

“Minho,” Thomas says, trying to sound stern. He comes up to Minho’s side and jerks his elbow back. “Stop it. This—this doesn’t have anything to do with you.” 

Gally drops the tissues and the ice pack. Nothing to do with him, huh? His nose throbs and he can still taste blood as it runs down to his lips. He’s close enough to touch Thomas, so he does. He grabs him by the hair and drags him forward and towards the wall, before pushing him up against it, slotting his thigh between Thomas’s legs in mockery of the first time they did this.

“I bet you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he whispers into Thomas’s ear.

“Minho,” Thomas breathes. He’s trying to tell Minho to back off before he hurts Gally again, but his voice comes out in a low, desperate whine.

Gally tugs Thomas’s head to the side and bites him on the neck, right over one of the bruises he’d left. Thomas’s entire body jerks and he moans, hands scratching down Gally’s back. Gally cups Thomas’s crotch with one hand and with the other that’s gripping Thomas’s hair he lifts and bangs Thomas’s head back against the wall again.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you Thomas?” he growls.

Thomas’s knees buckle and Gally catches him, hitching Thomas’s leg over his hip.

“Say it,” Gally hisses.

“Y-yes,” Thomas stutters. “Yes, s-sir.”

Gally bitch slaps him.  _ “Say it.” _

Thomas squeezes his eyes shut, but can’t keep back a whimper. “Yes! I like it. Oh, god,” he says as Gally grabs his ass and grinds Thomas’s crotch against his thigh. Gally bangs Thomas’s head back again.

“Tell me to stop.”

Thomas’s hips wiggle desperately and his breath quickens. He remains silent.

Gally tugs his hair hard enough for tears to well up in his eyes and asks again. “Tell me to stop, Thomas. Say no.”

Thomas bites his lip but refuses.

“All right, that’s enough!” Minho rips Gally away and immediately catches Thomas before he collapses, running one hand gently through Thomas’s hair and probing the back of his skull. Thomas is bright red, and refuses to make eye contact with either of them.

Once he’s certain Thomas can stand on his own two feet, Minho turns back to glare hotly at Gally. “You’re sick.”

Gally shrugs. “Only as much as  _ he _ is,” he says, jerking his chin towards Thomas.

Minho makes a move forward as though he were gonna attack Gally again, but Thomas grabs his elbow.

“Thomas,” Minho warns.

Gally gets ready for a fight.

“Please, Minho. Let’s just—let’s just go, okay?” Thomas switches to a pleading tone, obviously doing everything he can to get Minho away from Gally. Away from the evidence of his  _ mess. _ “You have a date. You’ll be late, but it’s fine. You really like her, don’t you?”

Minho shakes off Thomas’s grip and takes another step forward. “I don’t give a shit.”

Thomas runs in front of him and pushes him back. “You don’t understand! Why won’t you just listen to me?”

“You’re the one who doesn’t understand! He needs to be taught a lesson. I can’t let this go, Thomas. Not even if you’re the one asking me to.”

“I can take care of myself!” Thomas says angrily. “I told you! Everything’s fine! Now just—just leave.”

“Why are you defending him?” Minho shoots another glare at Gally.

“This is between us,” Thomas says.

“But—”

“You should listen to him, you know,” Gally says. “You don’t have a clue what’s going on, do you?”

“Shut up,” says Minho.

“It’s so fucking obvious,” Gally laughs. “Wow. Really?  _ This _ guy, Thomas?”

It’s satisfying. So satisfying, to see the way Thomas tenses up in fear.

“Shut up, Gally,” Thomas hisses.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Minho asks.

“I mean, I knew you were a masochist, but this is a whole ‘nother level.”

“Gally, shut up,” Thomas insists.

“He asks for it, you know. Begs for it. Pain is all he wants. Do you know why?”

Thomas begins to look nervous, and Minho’s temper begins to visibly rise again.

Thomas tries to de-escalate. “Don’t listen to him. Minho?”

Minho brushes Thomas aside. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not. I’m really, really not. You know what I think? I think you know, but you just refuse to acknowledge it. I wonder who’s worse. You, or me?”

Thomas is tugging Minho back again, a desperate look in his eye. “Gally, shut up, for the love of God. Shut the fuck up.”

But Gally’s on a roll. “You’re an idiot. Nothing I could ever do would hurt him the way you do.”

At this, Minho seems to lose it. “Listen, you piece of shit. I would  _ never—” _

“He’s in love with you,” Gally cuts in. 

You could hear a pin drop. 

But Gally isn’t done. Far from it. He can feel months of bitter anger building up inside of him, a tidal wave of recklessness that he knows he’ll regret later. But right now, he doesn’t care. Right now, he just wants to break something. 

Might as well let it be Thomas’s heart. Would serve the fucker right, for making Gally feel this way.

“That’s why,  _ Minho. _ That’s why he comes to me asking to be beaten black and blue. You know whose name he screams when it hurts the most? Yours, not mine. So don’t come in here lecturing me about hurting your precious Thomas. Because trust me, I couldn’t even come close to you if I tried.”

A hush falls over the room. Minho is frozen in shock. Gally crosses his arms and fixes him with a flat stare, daring him to challenge him.

Finally, Minho turns to Thomas, devastation on his face.

“Minho...” Thomas pleads, hands shaking.

“Is it true?”

Thomas curses under his breath and swipes a hand down his face. He turns away, pacing back and forth. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”

“Thomas,” Minho says, voice shaky but getting louder. “Is it true?”

Thomas stops and drops his hands by his side.

He looks up at Minho, eyes glistening. He doesn’t have to say anything for Minho to understand.

Minho looks like someone just punched him in the gut. “Then... Then this is because...”

“No. It’s not your fault. God, Minho. It’s me, okay? I’m just fucked up. I just...” Thomas looks up at the ceiling, clearly battling tears. “Of course I love you, Minho. How could I not? You’re—you’re amazing. And that’s not your fault. I’m just a mess, okay?” He laughs bitterly. “There was nothing you or I could have done. It was always going to end up like this.”

“Thomas...”

Minho balls his hands into fists and looks at the ground. Thomas closes his eyes, ready.

“I’m sorry,” Minho whispers.

“I know,” Thomas says, just as soft. He turns away from Minho, but Gally has a perfect view of his face. The resignation written there. It sends a thrill of satisfaction through him.

“Can we… Can we talk about this?” Minho pleads.

Gally could almost laugh.

“Maybe some other time,” Thomas whispers.

Minho nods. He looks back and forth between Gally and Thomas.

“Leave,” Gally orders.

Minho hesitates.

“Leave, Minho,” Thomas says.

After opening and closing his mouth one more time, Minho flees.

The door clicks closed and Gally moves to lock it.

He knows he should feel sorry, but he doesn’t. Part of him is brimming with a bitter glee. The other part is certain that Thomas is never going to speak to him again.

Maybe that’s for the best. Maybe they can finally end this.

He sighs and turns back around to face Thomas. “So? What did you want.”

“Take your clothes off,” Thomas demands.

“What?”

Thomas gets up close, eyes red and lips pursed. “Listen,” he hisses. “You just ruined the only good thing I had going for me. The least you can do is fuck me.”

Gally observes the tear tracks running down Thomas’s face. He wonders how Thomas would react if he licked them. When he doesn’t move, Thomas sniffs and grabs Gally’s jacket, shaking him hard.

“Did you fucking hear me? I said,  _ fuck me.” _

Gally heard him.

There are a few things he could say now. A few answers he could give.

The honest answer is, “I’m fucking in love with you, Thomas.”

The correct answer is, “Leave and don’t come back.”

Gally kisses him instead. And as they stumble towards the bedroom he asks himself why he does this to himself every fucking time.

**Author's Note:**

> :)  
> im taking tmr fic requests over on my [tumblr](https://manako-no-yami.tumblr.com/post/639180305112203264/hey-yall-im-currently-taking-tmr-fic-requests-for) if anyone's interested btw


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